Snow Day
by Fongzilla
Summary: An overnight snowfall has left the RED Team with a wintry landscape to occupy themselves with at the Sawmill base.


Sniper woke up inside his van. Growling to himself about the broken thermostat and cold American winters, he quickly got dressed and grabbed a mug of coffee before heading outside his van. He was greeted by a thick layer of snow covering the Sawmill base. Sniper didn't like snow.

Scout, who had always been a light sleeper, was jolted awake by a yell of frustration coming from the general direction of a certain Australian's camper van. Opening the blind of his room, he grinned at the sight of several inches of snow. Dashing about his room, he quickly put on his snow gear. Bolting into Heavy's room, he tapped the large man on the skull with his bat. Usually, Scout would expect a gigantic Russian fist to his face for such a courtesy. But not today.

Scout, still bouncing around the room, said "We got a snow day today, pally! Come on, get dressed!"

With that, he left to find another of his teammates to bother. Heavy lumbered out of bed, and looked outside his window to find Scout was indeed telling the truth. Heavy sighed. He liked snow. It reminded him of home. He dressed quickly in his warm things, and walked to the next room to find Engineer already woken by Scout's capering. The Texan looked up to find the Havy in his doorway.

"Howdy partner! Already been told about all this dang snow, have ya? We don' get this stuff back home."

Heavy grunted. "Heavy is used to cold. Gets much colder back in Russia."

With that, he headed downstairs and outside. His breath misting in the air, he trudged through the snow to find barriers splitting the map in half. Administration must be expecting a blizzard, as these barriers were meant to separate teams on off days. It was clear that today's battle had been canceled.

Sniper made his own path through the snow, grumbling to himself. "Bloody white crap. Hate the cold." At least the neck warmer he'd gotten from his mother last Christmas was doing its job. As the Australian walked through the front doors of RED base, he was nearly bowled over by Scout. A shout of "Sorry sharpshooter!" was sent drifting across the snow by the sprinting Bostonian. Walking inside, Sniper found Soldier sitting at a table, wearing only a singlet.

Sniper asked "Shouldn't ya be wearin somethin a bit more warm?"

Soldier replied "The bitter cold hardens a man, private."

Feeling that it would be best not to argue, Sniper continued into the kitchen. Medic was standing at the hot water dispenser, filling a thermos. He turned and greeted Sniper. "Good morning, Herr Sniper." Somewhat amused, he added "Not enjoying ze cold, I see?"

Sniper replied in an irritated tone "Jus because yer from bloody Europe don't mean yer a magical unicorn who don' feel th' cold."

Medic went about his business, singing an old German song.

Demoman, in the meantime, was slumped over his bed in his room, recovering from last night's hangover. He was woken by a loud banging from the room across the hall, which happened to belong to the Pyro. Rubbing his head, the Scot went to investigate. He entered the room to find the Pyro flipping out. He rushed to calm the manic firebug.

"Alright, alright, what's got ye so riled up, eh?"

Pyro pointed to the window. Demo threw open the blinds to see that the base had been covered in snow. Confused, he said to the Pyro "Ain't nothin wrong with a bit o' snow, lad!"

Pyro continued his tantrum. Demo closed the blinds and left, deciding that the Pyro would have to burn up all his energy alone. Chuckling at his pun, the Demoman entered the common room. Everyone had apparently headed outside, judging by the amount of snow and slush that had accumulated around the front door. After taking a warming swig of his scrumpy, Demo flung open the doors and set off into the snow.

Sniper, having nothing else to do, went for a jog to warm himself. As he rounded a corner, a white figure rose up from a drift of snow. Sniper, realising he had left his rifle in his van, turned and bolted. The bushman was halfway down the hill he had just climbed, when he looked back at the figure. The figure could be heard shouting, in between bouts of hysterical laughter. After the figure calmed itself somewhat, it drew back the white hood covering its face to reveal none other than Spy.

He called after Sniper. "Good morning, bushman!"

Sniper turned and yelled at the white-clad spook. "WHAT THE BLOODY 'ELL WAS THAT?"

Spy, beginning to laugh again, explained to Sniper. "Camouflage practice, mon ami! I cannot be relying on all zhese gadgets all ze time!"

Sniper was enraged. Picking up two handfuls of snow, he hurled a firm snowball at Spy, who stopped his cackling and began screeching about his suit. Sniper had already ducked around the corner.

The entire team, with the exception of the Sniper, the Spy, and the Pyro, was gathered around the entrance of the base, playing in the snow. Engineer was testing his sentries in the subzero temperatures. Soldier and Heavy were clearing the path to the base with shovels. Scout was running around aimlessly. Demo had collapsed into a snowbank to try and alleviate his headache, and Medic was sculpting ice with a bonesaw. They all looked as Sniper came careening around the corner, and jumped behind a stack of lumber.

Medic spoke first. "What are you doing, Sniper?"

Sniper replied with "Wait a few more seconds and you'll see."

Spy came running around the corner after Sniper, having shed his white camouflage suit on the hill. He flailed his arms, and snowballs flew. Everyone took cover, and the team attempted to wait out the Spy's barrage. Until Medic decided he wasn't going to take anything like this from a Frenchman. He told Heavy to begin making snowballs, and started doing the same. When they had a sizeable pile of snowballs, Heavy began using his powerful arms to hurl them at the still-flailing Spy, with Medic feeding him more handfuls of snow, so that the pair appeared like a machine gun. Spy, now laughing in that peculiar manner of his, set about building a snow fort.

Sniper gave directions to Scout. "Oi, nip around the buildin' an' try an' stab 'im in the back!"

Scout darted off. Sniper, suddenly remembering a very important detail, yelled after him "WITH SNOW, NOT KNIVES!"

Engineer had hidden somewhere, which was unusual for a member of the team that was so used to ducking through heavy fire and setting up his sentry at a tactically advantageous point.

Demo popped out of his snowbank. Quickly taking in the situation, he grabbed his grenade launcher (which he had brought out with him out of habit) and emptied it. The Scot emptied the grenades of all of the explosives except the detonators, and filled the casings with snow. Quickly building a rudimentary fort, he gave a yell of his signature "KA-BOOOOOM!" And with that, he started launching snow grenades at both sides.

Sniper was a lethal force, having combined his sniping accuracy with his Jarate-throwing power. He churned out the snowballs towards Spy's position. Soldier, using his shovel, was batting snowballs at anyone within 20 metres, and Scout had gotten behind Spy and was darting around, throwing snowballs and generally being a pain in the ass. Spy jumped as a particularly compact snowball hit his behind. Yes, a literal pain in the ass. Suddenly, the Engineer showed up inside Spy's snow fort.

"Yer gettin' beat real bad, son." Engineer commented as he set up a sentry.

Ignoring the Texan's jab, Spy gestured at the sentry and asked "But don't zhey shoot bullets?"

The Engineer said "Not this one."

As soon as the machine was fully upgraded, it began shooting pellets of snow. Scout backed off, and cries of "Ow, ow, ow!" could be heard from behind a nearby building. The sentry began shooting at Sniper's pile of lumber, and the Australian ducked his head down.

Spy grunted. "So zhat is where you went."

Engineer smiled with pride. "Yep! Snow Sentry, Version 1.0."

Pyro crept out of the front doors of the base. He tentatively touched a patch of snow. He liked the sound that it made under his boot. He heard something hurtling through the air towards him, whirled around, and airblasted it. The object, which turned out to be one of Spy's snowballs, rocketed back in the direction it came from and hit Spy in the face. Pyro, delighted with this, began making snowballs of his own to blast at people.

The team exchanged snowballs for a good hour, with Sniper, Medic, and Heavy being the clear victors. After Soldier had dug out the Engineer and the Spy from the pile of snow they were buried under, everyone retired to the base.

As the Sniper warmed his hands over an open flame, he remarked to Medic "Oi didn't think we 'ad a fireplace." The German snickered. "Ve don't." Sniper then realised that he was sitting next to Pyro's flamethrower set on low.

Later that night, Heavy watched the snow drift past his window in the moonlight. He was homesick, yes. But he'd made eight new friends, and Russia was always going to be there for him to go back to. Heavy sighed and rolled over in his bed, and went to sleep.


End file.
